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< Chapter 7
“Corbin Vance! Have you had enough yet?”
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Corbin had just regained consciousness after the emergency treatment. His mind was a blur, and he had no strength left in his
body.
Sloane’s face was flush with anger as she barked at him, “First you go on a hunger strike, then you hit people, and now you’ve learned how to fake a medical crisis to trick me? What’s next? Are you going to cry and threaten suicide?”
Sloane’s voice grew louder and louder.
The shouting echoed in his ears, piercingly loud, but he couldn’t make out a single word. He didn’t even have the energy to respond.
‘Fine! Since you love acting and playing the victim so much, you don’t need to stay in this hospital anymore.”
‘Someone get him out of here!”
Several assistants stepped forward and grabbed Corbin. They dragged him off the bed, his limp body offering no resistance. He was hauled out of the hospital and dumped onto the cold street.
The night was pitch black, and the wind was biting.
Before long, Corbin’s hands and feet were frozen numb. He instinctively forced himself up, stumbling and staggering forward. It
ook him until dawn to reach the front door of their home.
But when he pulled out his keys, he realized the lock had been changed.
Sloane stood coldly on the other side of the gate. “I was too indulgent with you before. Once you learn to admit your mistakes, I’ll let you back in.”
The iron gate lowered once more. Corbin knew he had nowhere left to go.
A tragic, bitter smile curled on his lips.
He turned and walked away, staring at the crowds of people on the busy street. Suddenly, he didn’t know where to go.
The excruciating pain began to flare up in his body again.
He pulled out his bottle of painkillers and shoved a handful into his mouth, walking aimlessly.
He eventually stopped in front of a bakery. Looking at the beautiful little cakes in the window, Corbin let out a faint, unwitting
smile.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out every last cent he had left. He bought a strawberry cake.
Carrying the cake, he found a bridge opening.
He pulled out every single painkiller he had left and began to put them into his mouth, one by one.
Corbin knew that taking too many painkillers at once was lethal.
But the pain was simply too much.
The cancer was a torture he could no longer endure. He just wanted to escape the agony.
One pill, one bite of cake. He swallowed them down, one after another.
The sweet, sugary cream masked the bitterness of the pills. Corbin smiled as he finished the entire bottle.
Then, he lay down peacefully on the ground and closed his eyes.
Sloane, I’m dead.
Let’s never meet again in the next life.
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